


Pleading Eyes

by MarshiaMoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Author is bad at spelling and grammer, Child Abuse, Depression, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Gay Regulus Black, Gen, Homophobia, Implied Animal Abuse kinda, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, James Potter & Lily Evans Potter Live, M/M, My First Fanfic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Sirius Black, Past Child Abuse, Regulus Black Deserves Better, Regulus Black Lives, Regulus Black Needs a Hug, Regulus Black is a Little Shit, Self-Esteem Issues, Sirius Black Adopts Regulus Black, Sirius Black as Padfoot, Sirius Black is an Okay Parent, Touch-Starved, he's trying
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23521357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshiaMoon/pseuds/MarshiaMoon
Summary: Regulus Black has been an only child for as long as he could remember, sure he knew he had an older brother but he could hardly remember him. He knows almost nothing about the man besides his name and the fact that he drove his mother mad and his father to the grave. Regulus would never be able to forgive the man for that, or for messing up so badly and leaving Regulus to pick up the broken pieces; but how can someone put something back together when it was never whole to begin with.
Relationships: James Potter/Lilly Evans Potter, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Past Orion Black/Walburga Black, Past Peter Pettigrew/Original Character(s), Past Remus Lupin/Original Character(s), Past Sirius Black /Marlene McKinnon, Past Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s), Regulus Black/Original Male Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 87





	1. The New Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings this Chapter Contains: Implied abuse of a mythical creature, implied/references to depression, implied child abuse, mental illness, implied/references to torture, and panic attacks

Platform 9 ¾ was swarming with people, families embracing their children as they sent them off for another or their first year at Hogwarts. Most of these were bitter sweet and tender moments, ones that a young boy of 13 new nothing about. He was small for his age, small, thin and deathly pale. He had long black hair that was pulled back while bangs framed his face and fell over his large gray eyes. His face was soft and round like a child, but his emotionless features rendered him older than his age. He was wearing the school uniform already, the small bag slung over his shoulder contained a few of his school books, parchment, quill and ink, a sketch book, charcoal, and two small vials filled with the purple liquid of dreamless sleep potion and sleeping drought. Really he didn't need much, he wouldn't be at the school for long. He held tight to a broomstick, it was last year's addition but already it looked old and worn down. 

_ Pop!  _

The boy tuned to face the small house elf, and his only friend. 

“Well?” he asked, his voice was raw and gravely; it gave the impression that it was painful for him to speak. 

The small house elf looked up at his master with small bluish eyes, over his long pointed nose. 

“It is done Master Regulus,” he sneaked into his tonic and wiped his nose periodically. Sniffling he continued, “the bird is on the train.” 

“Thank you Kreacher,” 

Regulus was cut off when a group of boys pushed past him nearly knocking him over as they boarded the train. 

“Argo! Argo hold on a moment!” He watched one of the boys stop on the first step as his father placed a battered hat on his head, which he quickly took off face flushing a deep shade of red. 

“Papa,” he whined softly but the man just laughed lightly and embarrassed the boy before letting him go and stepped away from the train to allow other students to file on. 

“Dirty mudbloods, filthy. . .” 

“Kreacher,” Regulus turned to the elf, cutting off his rant. “Go home and look after mother, I will be back as soon as I can.” 

The elf bawled with a “as the young master wishes” before he  disappeared from the platform with a sharp  _ crack _ , l eaving Regulus to see himself once more. No house elf, no father or mother, there was no one there for him. 

He took a look around him and truly felt alone as he watched his fellow students being embarrassed lovingly, by their families. A sharp pain stabbed him in the chest and sent a dull ache up his shoulders and down his arms. Regulus pushed the pain aside, deciding he was being childish and boarded the train. 

_ It’s better to be alone, _ he told himself  _ being alone means that there is nothing to lose . . . almost nothing anyway.  _

He quickly found an empty compartment, much to his relief and preference. After locking the door behind him he settled by the window to watch the platform disappear from sight as the train pulled out of the station. After a moment of debate the boy removed the vials from his bag and took a small sip of both, slowly he lost touch with himself and the world around him as he faded into a dreamless sleep. 

When Regulus regained consciousness the train had stopped moving and he could hear the footsteps of students running down the halls. Slowly he pushed himself up off the seat while his whole body protested the movement. He huffed in annoyance as someone just outside his compartment yelled out to a friend. 

“Fiona, wait up!” 

“Well common then, what are ya waiting for?” was the response to this before the shadow over his window was swept away with the storm of running feet. 

Regulus lifted his bag bag over his shoulder and grabbed hold of his broomstick, then waited a moment as the commotion died down and he left his compartment wandering down the halls and slipped out the back of the train out into the night air of the Hogsmeade station. There was a lot of commotion as the first years were pulled assigned by Hagrid and the other students wandered over to the carriages heading for the castle. Regulus pushed himself up against the wall of the station in a dark corner and watched the first years follow the half giant to the Black Lake. After they disappeared from sight he made his way over to the last carriage and he loaded himself into the back. 

Going back to school always filled the boy with mixed emotions, excitement and fear, relief and dread, joy and sadness. These were the feelings he experienced on a daily basis every time he would return to the school. He never knew which emotions would win out over the others, would he have a good day learning everything there was to learn and more or would he spend the day held up in the loo unable to stop the tears. Most of the time he would go about his day and classes in some sort of monotonous state, unable to understand what he was doing here. 

_ Why do I keep coming back here? Nothing good ever comes from this place.  _

Despite asking himself the question he already knew the answer. The school gave him a false sense of belonging and comfort while leaving him completely alone and utterly helpless, in the end he was tired of being alone. Regulus looked up at the night sky and wondered what it would be like to have someone beside him, have someone to talk to, to be with, to share his dreams with. Just the thought made him feel lost and maybe even a little broken. So he pushed it aside and looked at the Thestral striding over the rocky path back to the castle two ridges where its wings should, stared back at him. 

When the carriage came to a stop in front of the castle the boy climbed out of the back and walked around front stopping to look at the horse like beast before reaching up to stroke the Thestral’s beak. As he peered into one of its emotionless white eyes he felt a calm sort of sad wash over him, an acceptance that this is just how things were and there was nothing he or anyone else could do about it. In the back of his head there was a low whisper;  _ All you will ever have is yourself and the sooner you accept that son the better off you will be. _

He sighed and looked once more into the emotionless eye;  _ Soon no one will ever care if you die Regulus, and that is my gift to you.  _

“Maybe we're all a little broken,” he whispered, 

Slowly he stepped away from the carriage and watched as the Thestral walked off to the stables, its steps slow and lifeless. Head hanging low, as if all its will had been sucked out of its body. He watched until the carriage disappeared from sight and then looked up at the night sky. 

_ It really is a beautiful night.  _

Then he saddled his broom and pushed off the ground into the night sky, unaware of the large black dog laying under a pair of bushes cancelled by shadows. 

Regulus slipped into the Owlery, threw an outside window and pushed his broomstick up onto a dusty ledge alongside his bag. Quickly he ran down the steps and to the Great Hall, pushing past the lot of first years to enter the hall. 

“Mr. Black!” Regulus pulled up short before entering the hall as Professor McGonagall’s shrill voice called out to him over the nervous chatter of the first years. 

“Yes, Professor?” 

“What have I told you about running in the halls,” He looked up into her hazel eyes that peered over her spectacles at him, they were as scrutinizing as ever. 

“Not to do so,” his voice gasped out as he tried to speak up, choking slightly on his own words. 

“And yet here we are,” 

“Yeah, here we are,” her eyes narrowed slightly before she glanced at her watch, and back at the curious first yeres watching the exchange. 

“Come to my office after the feast, we will discuss this then,” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Now in you go,” she said nodding to the doors, he pulled one open just enough for him to slip in and then quickly shut it before the first years could get a good look inside. He walked diligently to his table, where he sat surrounded by snakes. 

“Late again Black,” he looked up at the Calix Fawley, eyes catching on the Prefect badge presented proudly on his chest. 

He was about to respond when the Frog choir chirped to life, and the doors of the Great Hall opened, the first years filled through just as the song began. 

_ Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, _

_ Teach us something please, _

_ Whether we be old and bald, _

_ Or young with scabby knees, _

_ Our heads could do with filling, _

_ With some interesting stuff, _

_ For now they're bare and full of air, _

_ Dead flies and bits of fluff, _

_ So teach us things worth knowing, _

_ Bring back what we've forgot, _

_ Just do your best, we'll do the rest, _

_ And learn until our brains all rot. _

The sorting went well enough it was a relatively small group of first years, Slytherin gained seventeen first years, twelve students went to Ravenclaw, twenty-six to Gryffindor and as twenty-three to Hufflepuff they were a total of seventy-eight first years. It was one of the smallest classes so far, and from what Regulus was hearing on his outing as his mother the number was expected to continue to drop.  _ I guess that's just what happens during times of war.  _

He wondered how many of the students were Muggle-born and how many of them would be dead in the next ten years. He looked around the great hall and studied his classmates faces as they welcomed the first years, and introduced themselves. And he felt a little sick with the realization that they were being condemned to a life of war. 

_ “Mother? Why must I train with Bella, won't Hogwarts teach me all I need to know?” _

_ “Hogwards is run by a fool! He’ll make you soft, while Bellatrix will make you strong.”  _

_ “But Mother . . .”  _

_ “Quite Regulus!”  _

Regulus thought of his mother standing in front of her dresser mirror, slowly pulling gray hairs from her head. Of his father sitting at his desk with a glass of scotch, holding his head in his hands. Of his cousins crackling laugh that echoed off the walls in the Lastrange ballroom, and the screams 

. . . his screams. 

“Welcome, welcome students new and old,” Professor Dumbledore’s voice reached the very back of the Great Hall where Regulus sat pulling him from his thoughts. “Welcome, I expect each of you to make the first years feel welcomed here at Hogwarts. Now as most of you know the Forbidden forest is strictly off limits to students and I was asked to remind each of you that the Whomping Willow is not for your entertainment. Before we move on to the wonderful feast that the House Elves have prepared for us I would like to introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher! Sirius Black! Good Luck Perfessor!” 

A man dressed beside Professor McGonical stood up as an applause uproar threw the hall, many of the students turned to face Regulus and there were a series of whispers at the Slytherin table. Regulus felt slightly nauseous and suddenly very cold. He looked up at the man and was instantly reminded of his father, except this man was much more youthful and actually seemed happy. His eyes seemed to meet Regulus’s across the room and he felt this stomach drop and his heart pick up, he felt like the air was forced out of his chest. 

He dropped his gaze to the table, and tried to breath. 

“I expect you all to welcome him!” 

Regulus' vision was distorted and he could feel the patronizing stares of his upper classmates burning into his skin he couldn't catch his breath. There was know way he could prepare for this, know way he could have seen this coming! Their stares burned into his skin, he could feel them pushing their way into his mind, into his body, they knew everything . . . 

_ Breath. Breath. Breath dammit!  _

**_Run!_ **

Before Regulus could understand what was happening he was on his feet, and pushing the doors of the great hall open the static echo of the school blaring in his ears, then he was running. And running, and running. 

His feet brought him to the silent shores of the Black Lake, where he was finally able to catch his breath, and feel the burn of his body. The hunger in his stomach as it ate away at itself. He was so hungry. Still he sat by the lake as he watched as the water push pulled against the shore and watched as the moon danced across the lake. It was only then that he realized that he had been crying. His cheeks were wet and he could taste the salt on his lips. After a few moments Regulus was finally able to contain himself, and got to his feet. Washed his face in the cool water of the lake, and walked back to the castle on shaky legs. He was halfway to the Owlary when he remembered Professor MicGonnagall wanted to see him, she wanted to scold him on running in the halls of Hogwarts. Suddenly he was thrown into a fit of hysteria at the realization that he would probably never stop running in the halls, he would probably  _ never _ stop running even if there was no place for him to go. 

It was a sad thought. 

Regulus pushed the door to the transfiguration's classroom open before knocking on the door frame, Professor MicGonnagall looked up at him, before setting her quill down and calling him inside. 

“Close the door behind you,” Regulus did so without turning his back to her and he quickly crossed the room to stand in front of her desk. “I know it is late and we have been over this many times before so I would like you to tell me Mr. Black, why is it that running is not allowed in the halls?” 

“I could trip and hurt myself, or bump into another person and knock them over injuring not only myself but them as well,” He resisted it from memory, she was right they had had this conversation before, it really was an old lecture and one he basically had memorized. 

“We are know in your third year Mr. Black if I see you running in the halls I am going to start taking points, do you understand?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Now as for your other behavioral issue I have let the teachers know that if you are late to class three times you are to start getting not only getting points docked but you will be receiving detentions as well,” She looked at him with her hazel eyes that in this light looked more grey than anything. “You are an extremely bright student, Mr. Black but you really need to learn to manage your time better,” 

Regulus felt a flair of anger at the Professor,  _ manage my time better you have know idea what my life is like!  _ He thought for a moment that if she knew all the things he had to do on a weekly let alone daily basis she would have shown him a bit more compensation, before he remembered that know one cares about anyone except themselves. He had been taught this lesson years ago. 

“Is there anything you wish to tell me?” he looked up into her eyes and was swallowed up in them, 

“No professor,” 

_ Liar.  _

For a moment he swore she looked disappointed, but then it was gone and he was only left feeling disappointed in himself. 

“Then you may go,” 

He walked out of the classroom feeling a down about himself, and the feeling only got worse as he pushed open the door. He rounded the corner and slammed right into a solid chest, nearly tumbling backwards onto his ares if two strong arms hadn't caught him standing him up right and settling him on his feet. As Regulus looked up into identical gray eyes the hands released his arms as if they had been made of fire. Regulus almost cried out at the loss of contact, almost cried out for his father, father please just hug me before he remembered. His father was dead and this man was Sirius Black, this man was his brother, this man was nothing to him. 

Regulus wished  _ he _ was dead instead. 

“Regulus,” It was soft, almost a whisper, and it was his name. His name finally someone had said his name so it had been so long sense . . . 

Regulus turned on his heels and left, stormed out down the corridor, he almost wanted to run but refused to give that man any form of acknowledgement. 

“Sirius please come in, we have much to discuss,” 

_ This is going to be a long year,  _ he thought as he turned the corner _ but it could be a lot worse.  _ A small voice in the back of his mind whispered. 

Silently he agreed. 


	2. No Reasoning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains mental illness, mental instability, child abuse and violence.

Regulus Black woke just before hours before dawn, he was laying in his bed at 12 Grimmauld Place and he could hear the rain hitting his windowpane. His whole body ached and he just wanted to lay in bed for another hour, but the consistency was important to maintaining his mother's health, and he hadn't spent all summer adjusting her to a new schedule for him to throw it all out the window over a few aches and pains. He showered slowly and dressed even slower; in the end settling on a simple outfit consisting of a pair of dark denim jeans, a dark green turtleneck, and a pair of black work boots that he had found in the basement a few years before. He pulled his hair back into a bun before walking down the stairs to the kitchen, where Kreature was boiling water for his morning tea. 

“Kreature, how is Mother?” he asked as he looked at the tea leaves internally debating between peppermint and chamomile. 

“The Mistress is restless,” Kreature stopped looking up at his master, with guarded eyes. 

“How so?” 

“The mistress kept calling out for the late Master,” This was no surprise when he had gotten back from Hogwarts his mother had been up wandering the halls calling out for his father, he had gently guided her back to bed after giving her her potions and sat with her while she fell asleep. It had been a hard night he had been forced to attend the sorting ceremony to avoid suspicion with the staff and between his displays of weakness over the traitor becoming his new DADA professor, and his meeting with McGonagall his mother had missed the night potions. As a result she had pulled all the books off the shelves in the library and his father's study, as well as destroyed many relics and pictures in the process. 

Still sleep came easy, as it always did with the help of potions. 

_ Chamomile it is. _

“Kreature could not sleep, she was very loud.” 

“I’ll give her the dreamless sleep potion tonight, Kreature,” he promised as he pulled a teacup from the cupboard above the sink. He went through the motions of making his tea adding a bit of honey for his throat. At the table he sat in his regular spot, the second seat left from the head, the empty seat seats around Him were reminders of how alone he truly was. As he sipped his morning tea Betelgeuse his father's old barn owl flew through the window behind him and dropped the morning paper at the head of the table. Before he perched on the back of the seat and stared at the entrance to the dining room. This happened every morning, Betelgeuse would sit there waiting, and waiting, and waiting for something for someone that would never come again. It's been five years. Regulus reached over and took the paper from his father's seat while Betelgeuse made an opposing noise, but it had lost its bite years ago. 

Regulus unrolled the paper, it was one of the first copies of the printer, and as far as the boy knew the only one out at this time. This was the perks of the deal his father had made with the Daily Prophet years ago, he would pay a huge sum each year as long as the prophet said nothing about the Black family that he didn’t give the say to. The proof that the deal was being followed came in the form of the first goof copy off the printer hours before they were released to the public. 

_ This makes it easier for us to slip under the radar Regulus, however this is a cracked shield, one missed step or heard hit will have the whole thing shattering around us. Our Reputation, our family's legacy could be left in runes. Do you understand, boy?  _

Regulus had understood all too well, more than Orion could ever imagine. 

When he flipped the pages of the Daily Prophet he thought he saw his father but then he blinked once and found that it was Sirius Black instead. He debated on whether or not he should read the article and in the end decided that if he was going to be learning from the man he should at least know a little about him. Besides, his mother was in no condition to tell him anything. 

**Sirius Black; New Professor at Hogwarts?**

_ It’s been quite some time since we last heard about black sheep of the Most Noble House of Black, but it seems that Sirius Black (25) has agreed to return to Hogwarts as a Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Black had been sorted into Gryffindor fourteen years earlier, and many of his classmates have said that he was always getting himself alone with his three best friends James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Petterpetigew into trouble. They had a habit of pulling outlandish pranks on fellow students, and losing their house points before they finally calmed down in their seventh year. After graduation, Black and his best friend James Potter both continued their education to become Auror. While Potter settled down and married the love of his life, who is now raising a family together, Black continues to enjoy the life of a bachelor. Just a few weeks prior to accepting the position at Hogwarts Black and Potter had captured Rodolphus Lestrange (20) who admits to being a follower of You-Know-Who and killing a Muggle-born and her family in their home. It's not known for sure but Black had been injured during the raid and has been placed on mandatory leave for the foreseen future. It is rumored that this is why he has accepted the position at Hogwarts, wishing good luck to Professor Black.  _

Attached to the article was a picture of Sirius Black leaning against a muggle motorbike helmet under his left arm, he smiled and winked at the camera before looking away from it for a moment before throwing his head back in a silent laugh. 

Honestly the segment had told Regulus nothing knew about the man besides why he might have decided to teach at Hogwarts but that was all speculation, nothing good comes out of speculation. Regulus skimmed the rest of the paper and learned that tomorrow would be the full moon (which he already knew) and the Ministry had a suspected werewolf in custody who might have killed a group of muggles out camping over the summer. They would be holding him until tomorrow night to see if he would turn, if so they would continue with the prosecution plan. There was no picture with the article, just the name of the accused. 

_ Baggerd William Lancha (37) _ with a sigh Regulus closed the paper,  _ the man will be executed within the fourth night _ . 

Regulus carried the paper upstairs to his bedroom and cut out the article about Baggerd and put it in a wooden box on his dresser, and then he put up the one able Sirius in his sketchbook promising himself he would do more research later. Leaving his room and locking the door behind him he made his way down the hall to the library where he spent the next few hours cleaning up the mess his mother had made, my hand. He tried to keep the use of magic to the minimum as he didn't want the Ministry of Magic to get too suspicious. Then again they usually left the Blacks alone; which was another perk of being wealthy. This way at least kept him busy. When all the books are back on the shelves, separated by subject, and in alphabetical order by author and did a quick repair spell on the broken items and pictures before putting them away. 

Regulus moved farther down the hall and stopped outside of his father's study. He hasn't been there in years, and he wasn’t about to step foot in there now. 

“Accio keys,” He guessed he would have been more specific when a few sets of keys shot towards him, he cost each of them with ease. Then he studied each of them carefully, he recognized the one his father used to carry emptily and closed the door to the study and locked it. Placing the key to the study on a leather cord, he hung it around his neck before hiding the rest of the keys under a loose floorboard in his room. 

Looking at his watch he realized that it was 7:30, and time to wake his mother up. Silently he pushed the door open to her bedroom and walked in to open the drapes. The rain had stopped and the sun was peeking out behind the clouds, a pair of birds settled in the tree outside the window chirped at him before flying off. 

“Orion,” 

_ So it would be another one of those days, no surprise there.  _

“Yes,” he answered as he turned to face her. Walburga was sitting up in bed, her long black hair curled and matted around her thin pale green face. Her cheeks were hollow and there were dark circles under her eyes as if she hadn't slept at all. She was skin and bone, and looked as if she would crumble if touched. Her nightgown hung off her shoulders and low on her chest, there were scars just above her heart. He quickly looked away and swallowed heavily, his heart beating in his ears. 

“It looks like it might turn out to be a lovely day, Walburga” As he spoke he stepped into her bathroom and turned on the water, before coming back out to pick out her outfit. There had been a time that he felt sad playing into her delusions like this, but that time had long past. At this point anything that kept her relatively calm was fair game to the boy. 

“Orion,” he turned again to look at her, this time her legs were hanging off the side of her bed, and she was looking down at her hands. 

“Yes?” he asked waiting, 

“Where is Sirius?” 

“He’s at Hogwarts,” an easy answer and for once it was true. 

“I see,” her voice was soft and she stared at the wall in front of her for a long time. Regulus walked over to her cautiously before kneeling in front of her. 

“It's time for a bath,” the woman shook her head as grey eyes peered into his. 

“Oh, Orion I am much to tired for a bath, please just . . . let me be,” 

“Not this time. Come on now,” he reached out for her hands that were folded over her lap, but she yanked them away from him as if she had been burned. 

“I'll do it myself,” she snapped at him, he stepped away from his mother and watched him get to her feet, gracefully looking like a starved cat. She crossed the room and stepped into the bathroom, Regulus tipped back on his heels trying to determine the state of mind. She seemed docile enough and nothing so far seemed to trigger any violent episodes, perhaps this would be a good day. 

Regulus left the room and went to the kitchen to see how breakfast was coming along, he absently took note that Betelgeuse was gone, and instead focused on the sun coming in thew the window. Specks of dust and fuzz floated in the natural light, he wasn't sure how long he watched but the noise of footsteps on the floor above him brought him back to reality. 

“Is breakfast ready, Kreature?” 

“Yes, Master,” 

“Then please have the table set before Mother gets down here,” 

“As the Master wishes,” 

Regulus extended the kitchen once more feeling a bit restless and desperately wishing for something to do, in the living room he found “Why I didn’t Die When the Augurey Cried” by Gulliver Pokeby. He settled down in one of the chairs by the fireplace and opened the book to read it for the third time. It wasn't all that interesting, but it was enough to keep his mind busy without actually having to learn something. When he heard his mother descending the stairs, and glanced up at her over the top of his book. 

She was wearing the dress he had put out for her, it was long and dark green, with black buttons up the fort. Her hair was pulled up into a tall bun at the top of her head, and the light bit of makeup she had put on made her look more lively. As she entered the kitchen Regulus got up from his chair and followed her in, stopping only for a moment to retrieve the potion and tonic bag hidden in a drawer beneath the record player at the bottom of the steps. Stepping in behind her he watched as she ate her pancakes, eggs, and bacon for a moment before he leaned down to kiss her cheek. One by one he pulled a small vial from the bag and put the right dose into a cup, in front of the woman. She looked at the cups momentarily before glancing up at the boy. 

“Please take the potions,” he said nodding to them, “they will help you to feel better,” 

She watched him for a long moment and he began to prepare himself for a fight when he thought she would refuse to take them. Then she took each one with stride and went back to her breakfast as Regulus put the bag away. When he threw the cups out he noticed Kreacher watching him carefully. He smiled at the small house-elf to let him know that everything was fine, before turning back to his mother. 

“Would you like some tea?” 

She looked up at him before nodding. 

“Do you have any preference?” 

“Chamomile would be wonderful, dear” 

The water was still hot from the early morning, most likely Kreatures doing, but he found no complaints as he prepared her tea. He placed it in a white teacup with gold trim before carrying it over to his mother. She smiled up at him lovingly. 

“Thank you, Orion, you are taken such good care of me, my parents will be pleased,” 

_ So that's where her mind was, back to when she and Orion just met.  _

“Of course anything for you,” 

As he left the room she was humming the Bridal Choirs to herself. 

The day passed peacefully, the only problem his mother seemed to be having that day was that she seemed to think he was Orion. The Orion she knew before their lives went to hell, the Orion that Regulus had never had the pleasure of seeing. At one point Walburga began to play the piano across the room from him, song, after song, after song. The sound was calming and it reminded him of many years ago when he was very small. Where he would sit and watch her play for hours while Orion read quilty behind him. Those were the good moments, but they were always short-lived. Feeling a little nostalgic Regulus slipped off into a light sleep, his mind dancing with music notes and fireworks. 

He woke with a hot fire iron being held in front of his face. 

Startled, the boy shot up and flinched back in his seat, he looked up the fire iron into his mother's angry and manic face. 

“What are you doing in this house!” she yelled, her shrill voice echoing off the walls she turned her head just slightly to the stairs. “Orion get down here!” 

“Mother, it’s me it’s Regulus,” 

“Who are you calling mother! Do I look old enough to be a parent!” Her face was contorted with rage, and disgust. “Orion!” 

“Mother,” he pleaded standing up and reaching forward to take the fire iron from her, she swung it at him hitting his hand away, she swung again hitting him on the side of the head. Knocking him to the floor, next thing he knew the fire iron was just inches from his nose, he could feel the heat radiating off of it. “Mother please,” 

“Orion!” She called again, staring down her nose at the boy. Tring another approach to the situation he tried to do his best impression of his father. 

“Walburga, please can you recognize me,” 

“How could I possibly recognize something so low and filthy, I would never associate myself with the likes of you,” 

“Please we went to school together,” he scrambled to find some sort of story. “I’m friends with Orion, I was here to congratulate him on his upcoming wedding,” 

The woman focused on his face as if she was trying to remember him, quickly he continued. 

“I was asked to wait here while it got something from his office,” 

“What something?” 

“I can’t tell you that, it's a surprise for your wedding day,” she looked a little curious now, which was better than anger. 

“Why don’t I remember you?” 

_ Your mother likes to be the smartest, most beautiful and interesting person in the room. She needs to feel important to be looked up to. At Hogwarts she was always surrounded by a flock of girls younger than her, they were eager to please her and easy for her to manipulate.  _

“I guess you wouldn’t I was a few years above you, and I was in Ravenclaw so were hardly ever in the same circle,” 

“A mudblood no doubt,” 

“My mother was a witch and my father a muggle,” he paused for a moment, “I haven't spoken with my parents for quite some time. I want nothing to do with the pair of them,” 

Her grip on the fire iron eased just slightly. 

“Orion and I are business partners; I have a position in the Ministry that he is eager to have a hand in. We were going to discuss the mechanics of it more when he came back downstairs,” 

_ Your mother doesn’t have the mind or subtlety of business, Regulus. You will have to take care of those matters yourself, when I’m gone. _

“I was thinking that I would introduce him to some of my colleagues, and from there we would . . .'' she began to lower the fire iron from his face. Then suddenly her face lit up with rage all over again except this time a lot more fires. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY WAND, YOU THIEF!” she screamed, “WHERE IS MY WAND,” 

“N-n-no I never took your wand,” The fire iron was swinging at him and he put his hands up instantly to protect his face. 

“LIAR!” there was a sharp pain in his right shoulder as the fire iron was shoved into it, his vision went white as it burned his insides before he blacked out. 

When he came to hours later Kreature was beside him pressing a cold rag to his bleeding head. 

“Master, Mater is awake! Kreature had been so worried,” 

“What happened?”

“The Mistresses stabbed the young master with the fire iron, the master passed out,” As the house-elf spoke the boy pushed himself upright and looked around the room, taking the rag from Kreature. There was blood on it, pressed back to his head, with his left hand. His shoulder was in extreme pain, his right hand was swollen, his head was pounding and when he moved too quickly his vision blurred slightly around the edges. 

“And after, what happened to mother after I blacked . . .” 

“Sirius!” Regulus turned towards the voice looking up at the woman on the landing, “Sirius get off the floor, what do you think you are, a dog?” 

She turned and walked down the hall, head held high forever the proud Mistress of the Most Noble House of Black. Regulus pushed himself to his feet saying ever so slightly, Kreature reached out as if to catch the boy if he fell. There was nothing he could do, at this point he knew exactly how things in this house worked. His mother's word was law, break it and he would be punished. There was no reasoning with the law, reasoning Regulus found can only get a person so far. 


	3. A Different Kind of Madness

After Regulus had put his mother to bed (an easier task now that she believed he was Sirius, yet harder then it would have been if she thought him Orion) he sat waiting in the kitchen for Kreature to return with the family healer, Mayaris R. A. Woodley, he had met her during one of his trips to Diagon Alley. At the time she had sold him a rubbish potion that made his skin crawl and hallucinate; all the while vomiting a black tar-like substance. It had caused him to bedridden for days. This was one of the few times in the more recent years that he had ever been tricked, and it had been an eye-opener. It let him know that he wasn’t as good at reading people as he had initially thought. Even if he had learned a valuable lesson there was no way in hell he was going to let her get away with it. It took him three months to learn everything he could possibly learn about the old woman and track her down. At which point he blackmailed her into becoming his and his mother's family healer, under the table of course. It was a lax punishment, something he never would have done if the circumstances had been different, but he was in great need of a healer after the last one . . .  _ vanished  _ so to speak. Their relationship was a complicated one, but he had great respect for the old woman, something he would never tell her. 

There was a POP in the entrance hall, and the sound of something being knocked to the floor. 

“Get off of me you little twisted beast,” 

“Dreadful filthy old hag!” 

“Don’t you call me an old hag you little . . .” 

“Quiet both of you, you'll wake mother,” Regulus stood in front of the pair of them, Kreature had hold of her arm and was going the best he could to drag her down the hall. The small woman, hardly 4’9” had her crutch pulled over her head, which she put down when she saw the boy. She was wearing a nightdress, and a pair of old barn boots. She was wearing a witch hat, and her silver hair was braided over her shoulder. There was a sleeping mask hanging around her neck, her potion bag hanging off her shoulder, almost touching the floor as she hunched over. Her wand was tucked behind her right ear. He stepped aside, putting his back against the wall, and looked down at the house-elf. “Kreature check if she’s still asleep, quietly,” 

This a pop the little elf was gone leaving him alone with the old woman, mumbling to herself she started to step past him as she did he grabbed hold of her arm. 

“Don’t ever raise your arm to hit him again, he was only going as he was told,” It was a fruitless effort no matter how many times they went over this conversation it would always be the same. She was an irritable and quick-tempered woman who was easily blindsided by rage, especially when it came towards muggle-born and muggle discrimination. She hated to work for Walburga Black, she hated all blacks in fact and everything associated with or around them, over time she learned to tolerate Regulus. 

It probably helped that he gave her a job and pulled her out of the gutter she was living in, literally. 

“Don’t lecture me, boy,” she growled at him, “show me where your hurt so I can fix ya up and go back to bed,” he released her and she walked past him into the kitchen, “honestly what are ya doing waking me up at this God-forsaken hour?” 

There was no real bite to her words, she would be more pissed off if he had waited till morning. That was a lecture  _ he _ didn’t want to sit through again. 

She patched him up with ease, while he just sat there and did everything she asked. 

“What did  _ that woman _ do to you this time?” she asked, as she stretched his shoulder shut, there was only so much she could do with potions and magic without the Ministry barking down her throat. She wasn't allowed to practice healing, after all she had lost her license years ago. 

“Nothing,” he stopped making excuses years ago; mainly because she had heard every lie and story he could come up with. She hummed and gave him a look, she didn’t believe him she never did. 

He had a concussion, a sprained wrist and broken pinky, and his shoulder was definitely going to scar. She gave him a healing salve to help quicken the healing process and ease so of the pain and discomfort during the day. She also gave him a potion for the pain to take before bed as well as another for the concussion, but he was told to take it easy for the next three days. 

“Ya got anything to eat, boy?” She asked as she was cleaning up. He walked into the kitchen and made her a sandwich. He put it in front of her and watched her eat.

She had two dark green eyes, almost black. There were streaks of blonde in her gray hair and her skin lightly tanned. Her nails were chipped and she was missing a few teeth, but he could tell she had once been beautiful. She looked tired and walked as if she had been around the block a time or two. There were burns on her hands, and a dark black tattoo around her left eye that swirled down that side of her face. Her ears were pierced with big gaping holes and she had a small piercing on her chin. There plants in her hair, dark green leaves with little red berries, he knew that it was holly. When he was younger he had asked her why she had pierced her skin in such a manner only to be told it kept the supremacist away from her, he figured it was because she couldn’t stand to look at herself in the mirror. 

He never asked about the holly in her hair. 

When she was done eating he thanked her, gave her a tip and sent her on her way. That night he lay in bed staring up at his ceiling thinking about what his parents would have been like if he had been the one to die instead of his father. Would they have cried? Would they have missed him at all? Would they have tried everything they possibly could to get him back? As MayBec had when she lost her daughter. Or would they have moved on? Had another child to replace him like they had with Sirius and forget all about him? 

He was a replacement, nothing more. 

Brought into this world to clean up the mess his brother had made, be the perfect child. He had learned that he could never make his parents happy at a young age, that they would never love him. The way they had loved Sirius, and they must have loved him only real love could cause this much damage in a family. He was certain of it, his parents didn’t even love him enough to stick around or remember his name. 

No matter how much he tried to please them. 

He let himself wonder what it would have been like to have MayBec as a mother, or what it would be like to  _ actually _ be his brother. To be loved that much, that just the idea of losing their child would cripple them. 

He fell asleep crying miserable and angry at Sirius for being so selfish.

Monday came, quickly and the morning passed with Regulus getting his mother up and her screaming at him for the rest of the morning. Going one about him . . . well Sirius destroying the drapes in the front room downstairs. He used the fireplace in the basement to flue go to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, he slipped the Innkeeper a few coins before flying to Hogwarts and entering through the Owlery where he stashed his broom. 

A small Northern Saw-whet owl with big yellow eyes darted at his head as soon as he turned to leave the Owlery. It was Elvis, his brother's old owl that he abandoned when he left home all those years ago. MayBec had told him that Elvis Presley was a muggle musician in America. It was no wonder his mother screamed at the top of her lungs everything she saw the bird. Regulus, who as a small child had dubbed the little nutcase Elfie, and took care of her when his brother left home; protecting the creature from his mother's scorn. If he were to be honest he was pretty sure Elfie had been dropped as an egg because she had no self-preservation to speak of. She wasn’t the smartest little thing, but she more than made up for it by looking so adorable. 

Except when she was being a little devil and refused to leave his shoulder so he could go to class. He spent the next ten minutes trying to cocks the creature from his shoulder, before giving up and leaving for Study of Ancient Runes. 

_ Maybe Professor Ennt wouldn't notice.  _

She definitely noticed, not only was Regulus late to class but he had brought his owl as well she was not having it. The small short-haired woman reached up to remove the creature from his shoulder only to be bitten, and screeched at. He was lectured for about twelve minutes, docked 5 points and somehow given detention for Elfie’s behavioral problems. When he was allowed to sit down Cyril Fawley spent the rest of the class throwing little bits of paper at Elfie, who kept trying to eat them. Until Regulus pushed her under his robe and to protect her from herself. 

He didn’t learn a single thing in Ancient Runes and he didn’t even bother to attend Care of Magical Creatures or Transfigurations, instead opting out to fly around the Quidditch Pitch with the small bird. 

Once the bird had her fill of attention she went back to the Owlery with no complaints, as it was noon and lunchtime Regulus returned home to check on his mother. She was in bad shape, she had once again destroyed the house. Pictures have been yanked off the walls, books off the shelves, pages ripped out of the books, and she has taken a knife to the apology. Her makeup was running down her face, and her hair was wild curls going every which way. It took him the better half of an hour to get her to stop breaking things, he was telling her whatever he could to make her stop, making promises he could never keep, and finally, finally she dropped to her knees staring up at him, with crying eyes. 

“Why am I not enough for you!” She screamed at him, “Tell me what I need to do better, Orion!” 

And Regulus, like the selfish cowed he was, left her there, and all he could think about was how he had never been good enough for either of them. He spent the rest of the day looking away in his room, not able to face the mess of his life. 

_ School can wait till tomorrow.  _

That night she came to his room waking him from his sleep and he spent the rest of the night holding her while she cried. He knew that he should send her away but this was the only time that he could be close to her, without fearing for his life. As she whispered about how happy Orion made her, and how much she loved him he felt guilty for stealing these precious moments away and for taking advantage of her delusional state. But as she clung to him like he was her lifeline he could not turn her away, he could not lose another parent. 

Not with his cousin waiting for him with open arms, that would surely never let him go. 

So he held her, feeling her frail body against his while leaning into the tender contact wishing she was holding him instead of his father. 


	4. What is Wrong with My Professors?

When Regulus woke up on Tuesday, his mother was gone and he found that he was unable to get out of bed. The pain in his shoulder was too much for him after flying the day before and he didn’t have to face the day. His head was pounding way too much, and he just couldn’t function. Closing his eyes he let sleep take him over. When he woke up Kreature was staring down at him with big blue eyes and a worried expression on his face, he was talking but the boy couldn’t make out the words. Then sleep overtook him, but this time he was plagued by nightmares. The next time he woke he was staring up into the eyes of his mother looming over him, screaming at him no Sirius to get out of bed. Then she stormed out of the room, and he passed out again. This time when he woke he was greeted by his healer, she was pressing a cold compress to his forehead. 

“I turn my back for a few days, and come to check up on your mum like I’m paid to and what do I find my employer on the verge of death,” 

He was sure she was joking, but it sure felt like he was going to die. 

“Wha happen,” he choked out, 

“Your shoulder got infected, it’s not that much of a surprise with how dirty everything gets in this house,” He was looking around his room with disguised, why he couldn’t tell, “but of course your room would be the cleanest,” 

“Why?” 

“Quite now you need to rest,” 

“But mother,” 

“That banshee will be fine without you, sleep,” 

“But . . .” 

“Sleep,” he was struggling to keep his eyes open as he looked up into her eyes, “sleep,” 

And then darkness consumed him. 

MayBec forced him to stay in bed for the next two days as his shoulder properly healed. Friday he was able to convince her that he was well enough to go to school and that it was a good day to go as he only had three classes. She looked like she wanted to protest, but then wrote him a letter to give to his head of house that his mother had fallen ill and he needed to be there to help take care of her. And as it was an emergency she had picked him up from Hogsmeade Monday morning after his first class. Because of Slughorn's love for both MayBec and Regulus, the boy was sure he would get away with missing these last few days. 

He was correct in his assumption. 

“How is your mother fairing now?” The old man asked for his desk that Friday morning. 

“Much better, it was a cold but with mother's weak immune system even a cold could get really nasty quick,” the boy told the man as he sipped his coffee, Regulus was sure there was alcohol in that cup as well. He had found a bottle of whiskey last year simply to see if he was correct in assuming that the man was a borderline alcoholic. He was, and at which point he lost all respect for the man. This is why he felt no shame in playing the man, like he did with McGonagall, not that he would ever get away with it. Honestly the lady was much more Slytherin then Slughorn was. 

_ Gryffindors are so lucky to have her as head of house.  _

He knew that his housemates would disagree and maybe he only felt that way because the lady seemed to care about her students, and he latched on to anyone who seemed to care in the slightest. That was a troubling thought. 

_ What is wrong with me?  _

“So Mayaris Woodley is your family healer?” He seemed a little suspicious. 

“Temporarily, mostly she helps with the housekeeping, but when mother fell ill she couldn't just stand by,” he lied easily. “Our last healer had left us and mother hasn’t found one that fits out, criteria,” 

“Ah yes her status would make it impossible to work for your family in any other way,” 

_ Her blood status or her loss of a healing license?  _

Neither really bothered Regulus at this point. 

“Well I will let the other Professors know to give you the work that you missed, and a few days to complete it,” he smiled at the boy and winked, Regulus wanted to gag. “But seeing as you're such a wonderful student that shouldn’t be a problem for you,” 

“Thank you, Professor,”  _ not really _ ” both for the compliment and the support.”  _ Which I didn’t ask for nor did I want it. _ “I was really concerned about missing class so early on in the year,”  _ Really it didn’t even cross my mind.  _ “As for my class, don't worry about making up anything, I'm sure you’ll be able to pick up from where we are,”  _ don’t do me any favors.  _

“It’s not a problem, Regulus,” He smiled and pushed himself up from his chair, walking around to put a hand on the boy's shoulder. “And if you or your mother ever need anything, anything at all just let me know,” he squeezed his shoulder, “I know things must be heard know that your father’s not around,” 

_ What could you possibly know about it you old frog? _ He wanted to curse him or punch him really either of those would probably make him feel better. Inserted he looked down as if he was ashamed. 

“Yes, I can be at times,” the man seemed delighted by this admission. “I love my mother, but it is just not the same,” 

“Of course not, you need a man to guide you exceptionally at your age,” he looked like his face might split in half with how hard he was smiling. 

_ Guide me? Who, you? Ha, please don’t make me laugh!  _

“You can come to me at any time, don’t be shy Regulus,” 

“Thank you, professor,” 

_ I'd rather eat snails.  _

Behind them, the door opened and students began to file into the classroom, Slughorn removed his hand from the boy's shoulder and Regulus took this time to retreat to the back of the class and have a seat. He wanted to be as far away from the man as he possibly could. They were learning what could possibly happen if someone were to add too much of one ingredient into the shrinking solution, on Monday they would start to brew it. When the lecture was finished the boy left as fast as he could, without it being too noticeable. Care of Magical Creatures passed with a boring lecture about the importance of respecting the creature and doing exactly as the professor instructed, they didn’t want anyone to get hurt. 

At the end of class Regulus was pulled aside by the professor and asked to write a one-page essay on how and why you respect magical creatures. Regulus felt a twinge of happiness and gratefulness at receiving his first assignment. He was halfway back to the castle when he realized he had forgotten his books back at the stables. Rushing back down the hill and into the midshaft classroom he found Professor Kettleburn was nowhere to be found. So he grabbed his bag and left the room as fast as possible only to find him sitting on a rock looking up at the sky talking to himself. 

“I think the weather is lovely today, don’t you?” a moment of silence “No I didn’t know it was supposed to rain,” 

Regulus quickly walked away. 

_ What the hell is wrong with everyone today? Maybe I still have a fever.  _

He was late for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and when he walked into the classroom he almost turned around and walked right back out. Almost. 

He had forgotten for a moment that Sirius Black was now Professor and he wondered how this man could possibly be his older brother . . . when he was such a child. 

_ Why the hell did anyone make him a Professor of any kind but especially Defence Against the Dark Arts? I mean look at him, he's such a . . . a . . . fool! _

That so-called Professor was currently standing on his desk in front of the class and yelling. Not at the class, but just in general. And the students were laughing, what the hell was so amusing. 

_ If mother could see this . . .  _

The door fell shut behind him louder than he had expected, and he along with everyone else jumped at the sound. Suddenly everyone was staring at him, that man. . .  _ that childlike-man _ was staring at him. That's when the panic began to set in, his heart began to pound quickly against his chest, blood rushing to his ears, a blush began to form on his cheeks and his palms began to sweat. 

_ Why did I come here? Why am I here? I need to get out. I have to get out! Run. Run. Please take me away from this place. I can't do this.  _

“Regulus,” his eyes snapped open. He hadn't realized he had closed them. He looked at Sirius, the man cleared his throat, “Mr. Black please have a seat. And see me after class so we can discuss the tartness,” 

“He’s  _ always  _ late,” the class laughed slightly as Cyril told the professor this, it wasn't completely true. “He couldn't be on time if his life depended on it,” 

“Thank you Mr. Fowley for your opinion on the matter but it will be addressed by myself after class, not by another student. Especially one who had been late just a few days before,” 

The class laughed again and Cyril’s face flushed a deep shade of red, he turned to glare at Regulus who had taken a seat at the back of the class next to some Gryffindor girl whose name he couldn’t recall. He leveled Cyril with a herd look and watched as his eyes widen ever so slightly, before he looked back up front where Sirius started to lecture all over again. Or more accurately tell stories, and the most of the class just kept laughing, 

_This is absolutely ridiculous_ , Regulus thought he was having a hard time not smiling. 


	5. Sirius Black

About halfway there the class Sirius sat down on the top of his desk and then looked out over his students. It seemed to Regulus that he made eye contact with each of them, for just a moment before moving on to the next. 

“Now that you all know a little about me I would like to learn a little about each of you. I would like you to write a one-page essay, in this essay you can discuss anything you want. I would also like you to include your strengths and weaknesses, what you want to do with your future, and lastly, fears and what you can do or how you can overcome them,” Sirius hopped off the desk and looked around the room again, “You have the remainder of class to complete the assignment,” 

Sirius and Regulus’s eyes met across the classroom, and Regulus looked away quickly pulling ink, quill, and parchment from his school bag. The boy felt his stomach twist itself into knots, as he stared down at the parchment on his table, and felt his mind go completely blank. 

He couldn't think of anything to write. 

_ Don’t let anyone in, they will always betray you! _

My name is Regulus Arcturus Black, born to Walburga and Orion Black and the Hair to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. My father died of a heart attack when I was 8 years old, since then it has been my mother, our house-elf and I. At home we have 5 owls, Betelgeuse, Rigel, Saiph who had once belonged to my father, my mother's owl Terrowin and my owl Elffie. 

He stopped writing and stared down at the page. Panic flooded his chest as he thought of the small bird, he had left in the Owlery that morning. 

_ Elffie _ .  _ Would Sirius realize that Elffie was Elvis? What would he think knowing that I took his owl as my own? Would he take her back? Would Elffie recognize Sirius if she ever saw him? Would she leave me for her old master?  _

Regulus’s blood began to boil in his veins, his hands clenched into fists tightly and he glared down at the words he had written. All he could think about was the night that Sirius had left home, it was a few days before Christmas. The snow had been falling peacefully and the street seemed to glow in the moonlight, little Regulus standing on the front steps watching his brother walk down the road, bag thrown over his shoulder. Regulus hadn’t said a word to his brother that night, he hadn't said a word to Sirius since he had left for Hogwarts in 1975. He remembered the little bird in the attic, sitting in two small cages, of the feathers floating around the room and coating the dusty floorboards. Her small body naked and bloody, eyes sewn shut with red stitched. Wanting to fly, wanting to be free of this hell, to be with the man . . . the boy who had treated her like a queen. Only to be left alone, abandoned, unloved, beaten, and heartbroken, confused as to what she had done wrong, why she wasn't enough. 

Regulus crumpled up the parchment in his fist and shoved it into his bag, along with his inkpot and quill. The girl beside him shifted nervously in her set and glanced over at him, but he paid her no mind. Slouching back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, it was a stupid assignment anyways and a waste of his time. When he closed his eyes he could imagine all too clearly what it would be like to be trapped, abused, and broken in a cage. Forgotten and left alone in the world. If he had opened his eyes he would have seen a pair of gray eyes watching him closely from the front of the classroom. 

When class ended Regulus kept his eyes closed and faked sleep not wanting to see his classmates looking at him as they filed out of the room. When he heard the door shut behind them, he remained as he was for a few moments. He could hear Sirius at the front of the room shuffling papers around on his desk. It was quiet for a long pungent moment, and Regulus felt his stomach twist itself into knots. 

“Reggie,” It was spoken softly, as if it was a term of endearment. Regulus imagined that would be what love sounded like. His heart fluttered in his chest and his cheeks felt warm and a smile threatened to tug at his lips. 

It made him angry. 

He pushed himself up from his chair grabbing hold of his hag and tossed it across his chest to hang from his good shoulder and hug his hip. His chair scraped loudly against the stone floor as he pushed it into his desk, mother would be so disappointed. 

The walk to the front of the room seemed to take forever, his footsteps echoing in his ears. He was aware of every fiber of his clothing. The way his pants hung low on his hips, held in place by a belt hidden beneath his white dress shirt which was loose on his body. His silver and green tie seemed way too tight around his neck, and long black robes flowed as he walked. His face was void of any emotion, eyes locked on his brothers as he came to a stop in front of his brother's desk. It was quiet as they looked at each other. Being this close to him in proper lighting Regulus was able to see that Sirius did in fact resemble their father. Both men seemed tall to Regulus, but not as tall as his mother had once been. The younger figured Sirius had about an inch on their father, maybe two if he was lucky. They were built similarly as well, broad around the shoulders; arms and chest lined with lean muscle. Sirius had long black that curled just slightly that rested just above his shoulders, another trait Sirius shared with his father. There were both extraordinary handsome, and from what the boy had witnessed shared the same love of people or more accurately perhaps shared the same want to be loved by people. Exped Sirius also had no qualms in disappointing people and being an obnoxious prat. The differences between them didn't end there. 

Sirius's eyes were also lighter, it didn’t seem to have much to do with the fact that they were physically a lighter grey but more from joy. They had lived in them, in fact his whole face had life in it. There was a bit of color to his skin, and a few freckles on his face, that absolutely no one in his family had. Even though his face was toneless, an exception so eerily similar to his father that the boy shuttered slightly, Regulus was still able to see the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes. 

“Hello, Regulus it's been a while,” His voice was nothing like Orions, it was kind, soft, and somehow full of life. “How have you been?” 

Regulus shrugged and looked away from the man, instead taking interest in a picture on his desk. There was a man and woman standing behind two boys dressed in quidditch gear each holding a broomstick. One of the boys was Sirius as a teenager, a little older looking then Regular remember him. The other Regulus also recognized from the picture in Sirius' room at Grimmauld Place, it was James Potter. So that would mean that the man and woman were Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. James wasn't nearly as tall as his father who he shared such a striking resemblance to that the pair of them could be twins. 

Mrs. Potter wasn't like any woman Regulus had ever seen before, her face was propper like his own mothers but she had a kind and warm feeling about her. Her skin was a soft tan and she had brilliant blue eyes, with long dark hair. She had her hair in a long braid down her back, she was wearing a long baby blue dress with flower lacing. It looked similar to one he had to wear of his mothers except his mothers had been black with gray flower lace. It had a depressing feeling about while Mrs. Potters seemed to be light. She had her arms wrapped around her son, both of who were laughing while Mr. Potter had her hand on Sirius' shoulder who was looking up into Mr. Potter's laughing face, who was smiling back at him in turn. Then the scene looped back to the beginning and the family was standing together once more looking at the camera, before Sirius opened his mouth and turned to James who answered whatever it was that Sirius had said and the family laughed once more. 

A beautiful memory frozen in time . . . 

“That was taken my last year at Hogwarts, Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch tournament. Mum . . . Mr. and Mrs. Potter went to the game,” 

“It’s beautiful,” the boy's voice was barely a whisper, and seemed to be far away before he came back to himself and turned to face his brother. Sirius had a weird expression on his face, almost as if he understood where Regulus was coming from even though the boy himself had no idea. He also looked a little sad, and disappointed about what the boy had no idea. Regulus' heart contracted in his chest and the air was knocked out of his lungs by some invisible force. His knees felt weak, and his palms burned. 

_ What did I do wrong?  _

“I'm sorry,” 

_ Why? What are you sorry for?  _

“You asked to see me after class, Professor?” As Regulus spoke he strained his back and squared his shoulders just slightly. His voice was clear and toneless as he had been taught but his volume was off. It always was he was not able to project it like his mother wanted when he was young, he spoke quietly almost as if he was afraid of being heard which contradicted the confidence in his words. The effect it had on Sirius was amendment, he too straightened up and had once more become emotionless, he didn’t square his shoulders though. 

“Yes, I wanted to go over a few things with you,” He stopped and studied the boy before continuing. “I didn’t come here to make things difficult on you or disrupt your education and social life. If there are problems with me working here, you can come to me and we can discuss how to address them. I know mother must not be . . .” 

“Would you quit?” 

“What?” he seemed surprised by the question, and that satisfied Regulus.

“If you being here made things difficult for me, would you quit?” Sirius pursed his lips together, “I didn’t think so, so why bother asking. Dumbledore wants you here and whatever consequences; bold of you to assume there would be any in the first place, I will deal with,” Regulus met his eyes, before continuing. “You overestimate your place in my life and your presence in this school, Sirius. You are nothing more than another teacher to me and just because we share a last name doesn't make us family. So you can drop this act, you and I are nothing to each other, I am just another student and you are just another professor. There is no reason for you to pretend that you actually care. Do we have an agreement?” 

“Of course,” 

“Good,” He turned on his heel to leave but was stopped when Sirius called his name again, this time there was a tone of amusement when he spoke. When Regulus looked back at him his eyes were dancing with what seemed to be laughter. 

“As your  _ professor _ , I have a few other things that I need to go over with you,” As he spoke he sat down at his desk and then waved his hand on the chair on the opposite side, and then the desk turned itself around to be facing Sirius. “Please have a seat,” 

Once the boy was seated, he studied him again and Regulus couldn't help but wonder what he saw looking at him. Did he see Orion or Walaburga, perhaps he didn’t see either of them, maybe he looked more like Bellatrix like everyone always told him. 

_ What do you see, Sirius? Who do I look like to you?  _

“Would you like to tell me why you were late to class today?” 

“I left my bag in Care of Magical Creatures and went back to retrieve it,” he said it was a statement not an excuse. 

“Okay,”  _ Okay? That's it, you're not going to lecture me?  _ “Professor Slughorn had mentioned the letter that Woodley wrote about mother being sick, and you needing to come home immediately to be with her,” 

_ Mother? Do you even see her as your mother? _

“That’s correct,” 

“And she is doing better?” 

“Yes,” There was a moment of silence before Sirius continued his questioning. 

“What did she have,” 

“A cold,”  _ Surely Slughorn had shared this information as well.  _

“A simple cold is not a reason for a student to go home, actual healers would be able to clear that up in a matter of hours,” 

“Her immune system is very weak,” Regulus snapped out. 

“Still, a few potions and simple spells would have her on her feet in no time,” Sirius countered easily, “are you sure you didn’t miss class for another reason,” 

_ He doesn't believe me.  _

“I had to go home to help Mrs. Woodley with Mother,” The boy said firmly, hoping that the conversation would drop there. Sirius just nodded before handing Regulus a leather notebook, and a muggle pencil. The leather was soft under the boys fingertips, and the pages were yellowed by age. The pencil was an orange-yellow with a pink eraser on one end. 

“I had hand these out the rest of the class on Monday,” 

“What is it for?” 

“Whatever you want, notes, journaling, even drawing if you like,” Regulus just stared at the book in his hands, “You didn’t miss any assignments, we had just gone over the roles and expectations of the class,” he handed Regulus a rolled parchment when he unrolled it in large lettering at the top read: DADA Sirius Rules. “Read that over, when you have the chance,” 

“Yes, professor,” 

“Now as for your assessment that you didn’t complete during the allotted time that you were given I would like you to have that finished and turned into me by Monday, is that understood?” 

“Yes, Professor,” 

“Then you may go,” 

With that Regulus turned on his heel once more and stormed out of the room, when he reached the door he was stopped once more. 

“Regulus, just so you know you and anyone else are welcome to come to me if you are having any problems. As a professor, I am more than happy to help in any way that I can,” 

Regulus looked back at the man, who seemed sincere. His hands were folded over his desk and he was looking at the boy with an open face and judgment-free eyes. . . and Regulus could feel words on the tip of his tongue begging to get out. Instead he left the room and allowed the door to slam shut behind him. 

There was no way in bloody hell that he was doing that assessment. 


End file.
